A Better Place
by Aubreys-Master
Summary: After Order 66, Quinlan Vos and Aalya Secura aren't as dead as people think. [QuinxObiWan, implied ObiWanxAnakin. Post RotS. Cowritten with CaideSin. Rated for safety.]
1. Prologue, Ring of Fire

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

Acknowledgments: Co-written with CaideSin.

* * *

A Better Place  


Prologue - Ring of Fire

* * *

Kashyyyk

Quinlan Vos didn't _want_ to know how long he'd been hiding under that damn tank. A better question to address was _why_ he was hiding under said tank, sans his cloak, lightsaber, and comlink. The answer to that could be easily narrowed down to two words: Palpatine's clones.

Just why the clones had apparently gone stark raving mad, and attempted to blow their General to Kingdom Come, had not been clarified to Master Vos, at this point. The most pressing matters were of the following: find out if this had happened to more Jedi, and get out from under the tank alive. Last he'd seen, the Sith damned thing was on fire. That couldn't bode well for his future.

_Force! _ Quinlan thought grumpily, looking around the small area of ground in his direct line of vision. His entire situation was becoming increasingly ridiculous by the moment. Kashyyyk might have been a jungle, but it wasn't what he'd call hot, at night. Surely the 402nd unit had found shelter for the night… He hoped so anyway, because he was crawling out from under this tank before it exploded anymore. (As if it was listening to his thoughts, a tooth-jarring sound assaulted him, and the tank rumbled dangerously.)

Yes, he decided, crawling forward slowly on his stomach. The clones could kiss his ass. It was time to stop hiding.

Luckily, when Quinlan got out from under his temporary, not to mention unstable, hiding refuge the surrounding forest was deserted and silent. It appeared the 402 had gotten bored and declared him dead, moving on. Good enough. Whatever floated their Starfighter, and got him offworld in one piece, was fine with him. His first priority was finding an operating ship that could get him off of Kashyyyk, and then seeing if he could find some more Jedi… If this had happened to others…on other worlds… Quinlan had dear friends on so many! Besides that…

He feared for Aayla…

She would be the first he looked for. After he knew whether his Padawan was alive or dead he could begin looking for help… Perhaps Aayla's troopers hadn't turned on her… Maybe Felucia would be safe; or, at the least, safer.

_Wishful thinking, Vos_. A dark, cynical part of his mind sneered, as he began picking his way through the rubble left behind from the battle, in an attempt to find a ship. Republic, Separatist…it didn't matter. He'd steal whatever he could get his hands on. _You're not looking for Aayla. You're looking for her dead body._

He couldn't think about that any longer… Whatever he was looking for, he'd find it. Silently, Quinlan promised Aayla that.

The sight that met Quinlan Vos's gaze, when he rounded the small hill that had served as No Man's Land, during the battle, made his eyes widen in alarm. Thousands of droids…hundreds of Confederate ships…all shut down and harmless. Those same droids and ships that he and his platoon had just been battling with hours earlier sat slumped and powered down. What had happened to make the Separatists change their mind, and just give up? Orders from the top, perhaps?

But, who was the 'top' for an alliance of rogues?

Quinlan decided it was better not to worry about that, and just jogged down into the ravine and over to the nearest Starfighter. Manually, he pried open the canopy, careful not to destroy the sealing mechanism in the process, and hauled the droid's doll-body from the pilot's seat. This would do just fine…yes.

Hopping lightly into the cockpit, he started the engine. The best way to get what you wanted was to not ask permission. He'd never get off Kashyyyk alive, if he wanted to get clearance for it. At least this way he stood a chance. Taking a moment to familiarize his mind with the strange controls. His mind flickered to a long ago conversation with his friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan had always been so proud of what a fine pilot his Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, was. Were Obi-Wan and Anakin still alive? Had their clones turned on them too?

He had to worry about Aayla first. He'd worry about Obi-Wan and the others after that. He was very careful to ignore the protesting planet security (who was a Wookiee and very fluent in his native tongue alone, anyway. So, attempting to communicate would only be slightly futile) and blasted into hyperspace as soon as he broke the atmosphere and had the coordinates punched in.

* * *

Felucia

Quinlan had never believed that it was possible to become physically ill from fear alone. He was proven quite incorrect on his trip through to Felucia. Once he was out of the hostile territory of Kashyyyk and closer to Felucia, he'd reverted to real space, so that he could try to contact some others…but he'd had no responses on any frequencies. Now he was on foot, wandering almost aimlessly through the eerily peaceful, giant flowerbed that made Felucia up. He'd tried to track Aayla through the Force, but if she was alive she was far too weak for him to sense. That was the part that scared him the most. Not the idea that the Order might be dead, but the idea that his Padawan might be.

Quinlan felt his paranoid nausea redouble when he stopped dead, catching sight of something ahead. He knew that leather bound lekku… _Force_… Quinlan had to physically bite back the urge to let out a grief filled moan. _No_… He couldn't believe that, out of the two of them, he'd been the one to live and she to die. Parents just weren't meant to outlive their children!

His footsteps were hurried and clumsy as he rushed to her side. Her back was a mess…riddled with burns and scars…those clones had really blasted her up… But there was something…the faintest hint of energy… Almost hesitantly, Quinlan reached for Aayla's pulse, checking it. It fluttered delicately under his fingers… She was alive, though barely.

Help.

The word echoed through Master Vos's mind and he quickly turned Aayla over and scooped her up like a small child. His vision tunneled as he hurried back to his stolen Starfighter.

He needed help. Now.

But help from who? This catastrophic ambush had obviously occurred everywhere, or at the very least on more worlds than Kashyyyk. Was there any help left? There _had_ to be! Aayla depended upon it. Maybe he could get her into a med bay on some remote, but civilized, world… But where could he go?

Licking his lips grimly, Quinlan settled Aayla's unconscious, battered form into the cramped passenger area of the Starfighter. Now wasn't the time to panic and lose himself… Aayla needed him to focus… Who of all the Jedi was most likely to survive this massacre?

The answer blossomed to his mind as clear as day. The one Jedi anyone could always count on to be right where he needed to be.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Now the question was, where did Obi-Wan think he needed to be? The dark side was all that Quinlan could sense in the Force, and the galaxy was a big place to scour with your eyes.

* * *

Tantive IV

"My wife and I will take the girl." Bail Organa announced, breaking the brief pause. Obi-Wan blinked up at him, a little surprised by how quickly the Senator had agreed to adopt baby Leia Skywalker. He knew that Bail was a good, noble man, and that he and Padmé Amidala – Leia's so recently deceased mother – had been good friends, but he supposed he was just so used to politicians taking forever and a day to decide the simplest issue that he hadn't expected Bail to be so decisive about something so big. Fortunately for Obi-Wan's tired mind, Organa continued with an explanation. "We've often talked about adopting a baby girl."

Obi-Wan and Yoda both nodded in agreement. So much had happened over the past hours… This had to be the longest day in the Republic's history – beginning to end, for it was no longer a Republic at all – Obi-Wan was certain as he rubbed his face wearily. Padmé was dead and her husband, Obi-Wan's beloved former Padawan, Anakin Skywalker was so deeply fallen into the dark side… Obi-Wan was sure Anakin was dead too. The last time he'd seen his subverted protégé, the traitorous Knight had been burning to a crisp on the ashen shores of the far-flung Outer Rim hell of Mustafar.

But had Anakin truly been a traitor? Obi-Wan had certainly felt betrayed, when he'd exited Padmé's regal skiff to find his apprentice strangling his pregnant wife to death, but there was no denying that Anakin had thought what he was doing was right. Could he truly write the boy off as Public Enemy Number One, when Anakin had felt so strongly that he was on the side of justice?

It didn't really matter how. Anakin and Padmé were both gone. All that mattered now was caring for their orphaned children, young Luke and Leia. Leia's future was now ensured, for she would grow up the daughter of a Senator and a Queen. More than likely, Leia would follow in her birth mother's footsteps and follow a life of public service. As for Luke…

"And, what of the boy?" Obi-Wan wondered aloud, looking between Yoda and Bail. They'd already decided that the children should be separated. Bail couldn't take them both.

"To Tatooine." Yoda piped up instantly, supplying their answer in a firm tone. "To his family, send him."

Obi-Wan bit back an exhausted sigh. His clothes were filthy and burned, from his murderous duel with Darth Vader, on Mustafar. All he wanted to do was go to bed and mourn the loss of his Padawan and friends in peace. That wasn't the way of the Jedi, though. If one was going to pick one thing about Obi-Wan to deny, his being a Jedi was not the thing to choose.

"I will take the child and watch out for him." He volunteered, after a moment, rubbing his beard thoughtfully with a hand. He owed Anakin this, for failing him so horribly.

"Then, decided it is." Yoda concluded, looking to Obi-Wan and Bail as the taller men rose to their feet. "Until the time is right, disappear we will." Obi-Wan and Bail both nodded, heading for the door to the conference room that they'd been in. Organa actually made it out the door. But Yoda called after Obi-Wan before the Jedi had any such luck. "Obi-Wan, while in your solitude on Tatooine, training I have for you."

"Training?" Obi-Wan echoed, so surprised by the old Councilor's words that he forgot, for a moment, about being so tired. Yoda nodded and motioned for him to sit. Obi-Wan obeyed without argument.

"From one who has learned the path to immortality." Yoda began to explain. "One who has returned from the netherworld of the Force. Your old Master."

"Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan gasped. Oh! The idea of meeting with Qui-Gon Jinn again was such a relief, it almost made the pain he was feeling about Anakin lessen.

"How to commune with him, I will teach you." Yoda smiled gently at him.

Well, Obi-Wan considered as Yoda continued to explain what he'd have to do. There were worse places to live than Tatooine, after all.

* * *

Bellassa

This had, Quinlan decided with no uncertainty, not been a wise move. Even on the most obscure worlds, there were clones everywhere. But what else could he do? Aayla needed medical attention, and Bellassa had been the closest world that he'd deemed safe to land on. Sighing, he removed his utility belt and tabard, hoping that this would make his tunic generic enough to be able to get Aayla to a hospital and care.

Luck must have been with him, the Bellassan Healers didn't ask many questions. They took one look one look at Aayla's wounds and accepted her. They had not, however, allowed Quinlan into the back room with her. One doctor, who had reminded Quinlan disturbingly of Jocasta Nu, the Jedi Temple Archivist, had told him firmly that he didn't belong anywhere near such young lady until she'd been tended to and put in proper clothes. (Apparently, she had taken a great affront to Aayla's choice of tight fitting clothing.)

Eventually, one of the doctors returned to tell him that Aayla was…mostly stabilized. Quinlan let out a soft sigh of relief and hurried off in the direction the doctor pointed him in, when he told him that he could go see Aayla, if he wanted to.

She looked half asleep, when Quinlan made it into the room. However, her eyes flickered open when she felt him enter. A faint, wry smile flickered across her face, which he returned readily. She was going to be okay… If there were still two of them, chances were that more Jedi had survived…

They'd find Obi-Wan. Kenobi was alive, Quinlan knew. He _had _to be alive. What chance did the Order have, if Obi-Wan was dead?

"Barriss is gone." Aayla told him, her tone flat and spread thin. Quinlan shushed her gently, placing a finger over her lips to make her be quiet. Once she'd calmed, Quinlan nodded to show he knew what she was talking about.

"I know. The clones ambushed us on Kashyyyk too – I'm assuming that's what happened. I'd expect Luminara is dead now, too. Maybe even Yoda…"

"Do you know how many worlds this has happened on?"

"No." Quinlan dragged a nearby chair over to the edge of her bed, with his foot, and sat down astride it. "But, if we survived it, others must have too. I'm going to look for Obi-Wan, as soon as you're up to it."

"That might be a while, Master," Aayla frowned, her eyes straying down to her blanket covered legs. "They did a number on me – not to whine."

"Of course," Quin waved it off. He frowned for a moment, thinking it over. "It's going to be hard to find Obi-Wan… What if I go look for him on my own, and then come back for you when I do? Think you can keep your nose clean until then?"

Aayla offered him a withering look, and Quinlan knew she'd be fine. It took all his discipline not to smile at the notion.

"I think," Aayla sniffed slightly, shifting in the uncomfortable looking medical bed. "I'll be fine."

* * *

Tatooine

When Obi-Wan had said there were worse places to live than Tatooine, he'd meant it. What he was not so confidant of was that there were worse places to live than his house. (If it could be called a house at all. It was more of a…furnished cave, all things considering.) Hot days, cold nights, magnificent dawns and dusks, and rusty water became a tradition, out in the Judland Wastes. The only thing that kept him going was the idea of sneaking a peek at Luke. Anakin's son… It seemed like he was developing a habit for caring about Skywalkers…

The only complaint Obi-Wan could really justify was how abysmally lonely the desert was. Owen Lars had flat out forbidden him from seeing Luke…so he was left to watch the child from afar… Not the best circumstances, but he could live with them.

Now, he was sitting in a Cantina, in the spaceport Anchorhead. Beru had Luke across the street. They were shopping for their dinner, that night. The moment was peaceful, a static filled HoloNet transmission crackling in and out in the background. Watching Luke, Obi-Wan was almost able to ignore the Empire, Sidious, and the destruction of the Temple – of the Jedi themselves. He felt a momentary peace, watching Luke…it was almost as though Anakin was with him again. Quickly, Obi-Wan shook those thoughts away, and took a long sip of the metallic drink before him. It was best he didn't do that again, or he ran a very dangerous risk in deed.

He ran the risk of doing it again.

Of falling in love with Luke, as he'd fallen for Anakin.

But, damn! If he'd thought sixteen years was an age difference! Even if he did let himself slip, and be aware of all the penned in affection he was feeling for the infant boy, he'd never be able to act on it! Not in a million light years! It was…wrong! Unheard of! That was all…he was just an old man, doomed for a lonely existence of waiting.

"Unbelievable." He heard another patron snort in disbelief. "I'll be damned…never would have thought it, if I wasn't standing here, seeing it with my own eyes…"

Although reluctant to allow his eyes to stray from baby Luke, Obi-Wan still turned to see just what was so unbelievably fantastic. A dark haired, dark skinned foreigner – smuggler, judging by the rag tag mix match of his clothes – was staring at him with the smuggest expression Obi-Wan had ever seen in his life. The being looked so painfully familiar…but it couldn't be. All the Jedi were dead. He'd been to the Temple…he knew.

"Like finding a needle in a Sarlacc pit," the smuggler continued, his equally dark eyes gleaming with amusement, the yellow band of flesh catching the light of the midday sun. Obi-Wan felt a sick sense of nostalgia. The smuggler reminded him of his old Kiffar friend, Quinlan Vos…but, Quin had been on Kashyyyk during Order Sixty-Six…he'd be dead too… "Eh, Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly, but he back no move of acknowledgement. The heat was getting to him…there probably wasn't a smuggler at all. He was probably just hallucinating. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant hallucination, though… He took another swig of his drink, just in case it really was dehydration. The smuggler didn't vanish…how odd…

Instead, the dark man made his way to Obi-Wan's table with a confidant stride that few beings boasted anymore. Sitting down, the smuggler leaned in conspiratorially. Obi-Wan was wishing he knew what was going on, and merely attempted to hide behind his liquor glass. He should be paying attention to Beru and Luke, not some lunatic…or, was _he_ the lunatic? He felt like groaning in confusion, but he didn't.

"I _knew_ you'd be alive." The smuggler continued in a low tone, so that the other drinkers didn't hear him over the hubbub surrounding them. "I knew if anyone lived through that, it would be Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Sir," Obi-Wan sighed, receiving a slightly choked snort in reply. "Really…I'm sure you're very nice, but I don't think you're who I think you are, and I really should be paying attention to what I'm actually supposed to be doing –"

"You're babbling." The other man cut in, waving a hand slightly. "I think you've lost your confidence in your old age, you senile coot. I also think I'm _exactly_ who you think I am."

"But…that would mean…" This time, Obi-Wan's eyes widened in recognition, not alarm. Well…maybe a little alarm…that aside… "Quin!" He breathed, looking his fellow Master over carefully. Quinlan never had been the best at dressing undercover…that explained the bizarre set of tunics he'd put together. They looked like the civilian equivalent of a Jedi's traditional set. "But…how did you – Yoda said Order Sixty-Six reached Kashyyyk too –"

"It did." Quinlan cut him off again, lounging back in his chair. "I'm just that great. Aayla lived to…through no fault of the clones. They tried their best to get us both…"

"Aayla?" Obi-Wan glanced around, and his eyes strayed to the market across the street, before turning back to Quinlan. "Where is she?"

"Bellassa." Quinlan's gaze clouded, and his own gaze strayed. "She's in a medical ward there. I had to get her offworld…not that it did a lot of good. There are clones everywhere there too…"

"Palpatine's doing." Obi-Wan confirmed, tilting his glass somewhat to swirl the fruit dregs that had floated to the surface in the dark red liquid. "He had them go after Jedi everywhere. They ambushed me on Utapau too…and the Temple…" He trailed off, going distant. His last visit to the Jedi Temple had not been pleasant. All those dead bodies…his friends, teachers, all the younglings…it had been horrible.

"They even went after us on Coruscant?"

Obi-Wan nodded tightly. This conversation was reminding him painfully of Anakin, and his eyes strayed to Luke again. Beru was looking through fruit, Luke settled happily in a front carrier. It didn't help his heart settle any, to gaze upon that child this time. Strange…

Finally, Obi-Wan murmured softly, "Thousands of clones attacked the Temple, led by Sidious's most recent apprentice."

"Did any make it out?"

"Not to my knowledge."

Quinlan let out a disgusted noise and allowed his head to drop back, so that he was staring at the cantina canopy, providing them some sparse shade from the blistering suns. All those lives, just wasted… This was what the Sith had been planning.

"Wasn't Skywalker on Coruscant?" He wondered finally, figuring out why Obi-Wan sounded so…lost in this conversation.

"He was." Obi-Wan said, confirming Quinlan's suspicions. Poor guy sounded like he was going to cry, Quin realized with a pang of sympathy.

"He's gone too, then." This time, he didn't bother to ask. He knew the answer. Obi-Wan's next pained confession did nothing more than confirm it for him.

"Anakin will be no help to us."

Quinlan nodded thoughtfully, returning his full gaze and attention to Obi-Wan. Now was the time to pose his offer…it was more of a request, he realized with an internal sigh.

"I have to go back to Bellassa and get Aayla, soon, but…if you're in the mood for company out there, we'd be happy to oblige an old hermit."

Obi-Wan seemed to recognize his teasing tone and smiled faintly, nodding slightly.

"I have my own mission and training here." He warned Quinlan bluntly. "But you and Aayla are welcome here, until you can find a place to settle in on your own. We can't afford to mass together again, but…three of us for a few months won't cause any harm, I don't guess…" Qui-Gon had already told him that Vader wouldn't come to Tatooine, even though he'd obviously survived their fateful encounter on Mustafar – albeit barely.

"A temporary solution, but a solution nonetheless." Quinlan mused, rising to his feet. "Aayla and I will find you…don't worry." He added, moving away from the table. Obi-Wan glanced over to Luke and Beru again, and when he looked back Quin had disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Bellassa

"I found Obi-Wan."

Aayla looked up at the door, her eyebrows rising slightly. Quinlan strode toward her with a business-like air. He pulled his chair over and sat down, speaking in a hushed tone.

"He's on Tatooine. Hutt territory. He's willing to keep us there with him, until we can start over."

"Tatooine?" Aayla echoed, one eyebrow going still higher. Out of all the worlds she'd imagined Obi-wan Kenobi on, she was sure Tatooine wasn't one of them. But, she just shrugged and nodded. "Alright."

"Are you up to a little trip?"

"Master…Quinlan…" Aayla didn't answer. She didn't look at him. "You can go to see Obi-Wan. I can't. I'll slow you down. It's not worth getting caught just to take me along. So, go. Just go. Please."

"Aayla –"

"Please go, Quinlan."

Quinlan closed his eyes, licking his lips as he tried to keep his bearings. This wasn't right… He couldn't just leave her there alone…could he? It was the way of a Jedi to do what was in the best interest of all, so…

"I'll see you again, old friend." He promised, clapping a hand on her shoulder. Aayla looked satisfied at least, after he did that, until he turned to leave. "Until then…may the Force be with you."

* * *

Epilogue

Aayla Secura died of medical complications three standard months after she and Quinlan Vos parted ways on Bellassa. Quinlan never knew for certain.

His time with Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine was brief. He returned to the core for several months, afterward, before retiring out to a farmstead in a peaceful, former Agriculture Corporation run system, in the Outer Rim. He died of alcohol poisoning in a local pub, some seven years later.

Bail Organa died in a brutal attack on Alderaan, by the Empire, roughly twenty years later. Obi-Wan Kenobi died in a lightsaber duel with the Sith Lord, Darth Vader, also roughly twenty years later.

Leia Organa and Luke Skywalker would grow to lead a valiant rebellion against the tyrannical Empire, aided by smuggler Han Solo and the Wookiee Chewbacca.

Droids Artoo-Deetoo and See-Threepio were placed under Aldeeranian care and also aided in the rebellion. They became decorated war heroes, along with Luke, Leia, and Han.

Fallen Jedi Anakin Skywalker died approximately twenty-five years after the fall of the Republic, saving his son from the Emperor Palpatine.

Revered Jedi Master Yoda died of old age and illness, shortly before the Battle of Endor.

Emperor Palpatine died from being tossed into a power generator by his apprentice, Darth Vader, during the Battle of Endor.

The Galactic Republic died in 20 BBY, at the hands of its leaders and saviors. The Galactic Empire died similarly in 5 ABY. The New Republic and New Jedi Order were birthed shortly after the fall of the Empire.

Nothing is immortal. Nothing lives forever. Some things can make you feel that they will, though. Golden ages are temporary, as are dark times. Nightmares can only last until you wake up.

End

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_Next: A Better Place - Chapter One_


	2. Chapter One, Beginnings

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.

Acknowledgments: Co-written with CaideSin. Inspired by the Clone Wars comics, and the Revenge of the Sith comic adaption.

Aubrey's crap: I'm going to try and keep updates pretty regular. The final draft for this isn't finished, but I'll try to get a new chapter up every week or two. Also, I'll have some new stories up soon. So watch out for news about them in my bio!

* * *

A Better Place  
Chapter One  
Beginnings

* * *

Obi-Wan was expecting them back, and he was expecting them to be easy to spot. Quinlan Vos would always be bad with those disguises. So, Obi-Wan's eyes were trained for one dark skinned man with a Twi'Lek at his side. He searched the spaceport from morning to afternoon, watching every ship. This _was_ the day Quin had said, wasn't it? Had they been delayed? Were they captured? Maybe he shouldn't be standing in the open like this? He drew back into the Force, under the current of surrounding people. His own disguise had seemed sufficient, but had he erred? The heat must have been getting to him, he decided. He was distracted, and someone actually managed to sneak up on him. Obi-Wan turned slowly, tensed and wary, just to see Quinlan.

"You're alone," Kenobi noted intelligently.

"Aayla's hurt," Quinlan explained. "Not to mention selfless. She didn't want to slow me down, so she sent me on my own way."

"I see." Obi-Wan nodded. He looked about furtively, before returning his attention to the other. He was jumpy now, and he didn't really wish to stay in the open any longer. If he couldn't get home by dark, he at least wanted to find a room to stay in. "Well, what are your plans then?" He inquired as he turned, heading for the nearest inn. They were all about equally dilapidated. He wasn't going to be fussy about accommodations.

"Oh," Quin shrugged, sauntering nonchalantly along side his companion. "I thought I'd mooch off – I mean, keep you company for a while." His dark eyes glittered with teasing amusement.

His friend, however, didn't share any of his mirth. He didn't respond to Quinlan in any way. He just kept trudging along purposefully. Then he took care of his room, sharing a few words as possible with the fat Dugg behind the desk. Obi-Wan was well aware that Quin didn't like the silence, but Obi-Wan was in a state of not caring. His apathy was directly stress related. Two Jedi shouldn't stay together for extended periods. Vader would have no trouble finding them. Obi-Wan _had_ to stay there and watch Luke. He had to train…he didn't have time to for Quinlan Vos to be prancing about.

"Alright," he murmured finally.

"Thanks," Quinlan clapped him on the back with a smirk. "You always were too soft for your own good," he added, sliding his own credits across the desk, in exchange for a room key. His double agent work with Dooku and the Separatists, during the war, had earned him a small mass of credits, which he'd kept all to himself. "As I recall, that's what landed you a youngling, fresh out of training." His tone was light, obviously a subtle and vain attempt to make conversation while being gentle, all at once. He wasn't prepared for the violent wince. Obi-Wan's entire body seized up, and the Force fluxed unpleasantly. Quin felt a twinge in his temples. Then it was gone and Obi-Wan was heading slowly up the stairs, as if it were nothing.

"Hmm, yes, I suppose you recall correctly." He just barely heard his friend say.

Quinlan tossed a look after him. Obi-Wan wasn't the only one with Padawan problems. Aayla might not have been dead yet, but she and Quin had both known, when they'd parted, that they'd never see each other again. The galaxy was too big… He didn't say anything, though. Obi-Wan wouldn't want his sympathy, and he had none to offer.

They stopped in the hallway, to go into separate rooms. Kenobi turned to look at him, his face calm, serene, and the very picture of proper Jedi decorum.

"I have a…house, out in the desert. That's where I'll be staying. If you dislike that idea, then you don't have to follow me."

Quinlan merely shrugged his words off, heading into his room with barely a word.

"I'm in no place to be picky," he reminded Obi-Wan, shutting the door. His credits wouldn't last long, at the price of room and board, and not everyone in Hutt Space would accept them to begin with. He knew that from his dealing with the CIS, on Nar Shadaa.

They both retired early and with great ease. Years of being Jedi had their bodies trained to rest when they were ordered to. In the morning, they were both ready for their hard trek across the sands. Obi-Wan wanted to leave immediately, but Quin wouldn't be budged without eating first. He thought the irritated look on his friend's face was pretty amusing, too.

So, smirking at him, Quinlan just chucked and tugged him off to a nearby cantina. A quick bite to eat wouldn't be a big tip-off to the Empire, and he told Obi-Wan as much.

"That's beside the point," Obi-Wan replied tersely. "I _know_ you could make the journey without food."

"Of course I could," the other fugitive Jedi agreed, flopping down into the first empty chair that he reached. "But, that doesn't mean I will, and I wish you luck on trying to make me."

"You're just wasting your credits now, Quin," the shorter man groused.

Quinlan offered him an aggravated look. Obi-Wan hadn't changed a bit since their days of Temple training. He was still by the book, far too practical and far too dull.

"Do you _always_ have to make sense?" he wondered with a sigh.

"Yes," Obi-Wan muttered, but by now it didn't matter. A waitress was dropping a plate of greasy, disgusting, "Force, Quin, don't eat that…" The man winced. He couldn't decipher was it was, but it appeared to still be moving.

"You have something better to feed me?" the darker man wondered, poking the food, albeit cautiously, with his fork.

"At home, I do." Kenobi replied, still looking at the vaguely sludge colored substance. "You can make the trip without food."

"Fine." Quinlan relented finally, shoving the food away and standing up – conveniently managing to ignore the angry calls of the establishment owner, as he strolled away from the outdoor table he'd been at. "I suppose."

They left, and Obi-Wan found his way back to the Eopie he'd ridden. Quinlan looked at the creature incredulously.

"You may walk, if you'd like," Obi-Wan offered. He was well aware that the things smelled awful, but he was a Jedi, he could persevere. Quinlan knew he'd been in some rough circumstances, during the war, but stinky animals were usually where he drew the line. Usually.

"I think I'll have to take you up on that," he decided. "That thing might get…crowded."

Obi-Wan's smile irritated him a bit, but the look didn't last long. Kenobi didn't waste another moment before setting off. It wasn't like the desert was going to be any picnic; he shouldn't have been so revved up about it!

Eventually, after hours of wandering, seemingly aimlessly, through the barren sands, they arrived at Obi-Wan's 'house'. Quinlan shot a skeptical look at the place. 'House' seemed to have been used in the loosest possible way, but he held his tongue. Quin had a feeling that inadvertently referencing both his friend's late Master _and_ Padawan, the day before, had earned Kenobi a bit of reprieve on his décor. That didn't magically turn the cave into a mansion, though. It was a small cave too, damn it. What was Obi-Wan thinking? With Bail Organa at his back, he could have gotten somewhere decent! But, no! Obi-Wan approached his glorious hovel as though he had missed it dearly.

"I need to check on the garden," Obi-Wan said, as he tied up the Eopie. "Go in and…" he didn't even know what he was going to say, apparently. "Just go in."

"Sure thing," Quin agreed, moseying into the little house. When he'd accused Obi-Wan of being a hermit, the last time they'd met up here, he hadn't meant it so literally. But, judging by the fact that the house was obviously furnished for one person…Obi-Wan hadn't been expecting to receive any company…ever. It held one bed, one kitchen chair, one…the point made itself.

Obi-Wan returned when Quin was just beginning to feel absolutely despondent. He turned to look at this friend, studying him more intently than he had before. Obi-Wan was dusty. Quin was probably going to look like that too: all dusty and baked.

"I think things will be alright, for a while, with you here. I should have enough rations and such," Obi-Wan said. He was uncomfortable, but who could blame him? He was getting used to his life of solitude. Quin took one more look around Obi-Wan's house, before looking to him and nodding.

"I managed to cheat the Separatists out of some credits, during the war," he told Obi-Wan after a moment. "So, if you need help with rations, or…furniture, while I'm here, I can probably trade them for some local currency, and help out."

Obi-Wan's mouth crooked ironically.

"Oh, no, Quin. I'm become quite an accomplished farmer. It seems agriculture was my destiny all along." Quin felt his stomach turn, just a little, at that comment. Had Obi-Wan just completely waved aside Qui-Gon, as if he were a _mistake_? Damn Kenobi was confusing!

"Maybe," he played along, after a moment, trying to keep his tone light. "Who knows? Maybe Dooku was destined to become a lawyer, too."

The smile on Obi-Wan's face was downright disturbing. "His destiny was also in agriculture. Fertilizer." The other man didn't seem to be joking, or playful, or anything.

Quinlan offered him a wary look. Perhaps the combined trauma of this Order Sixty-Six, and all the time he'd spent in the sun, had caused some permanent brain damage on poor Obi-Wan?

"I heard Skywalker did quite a number on the dear Count, and you slept through it," he recollected, sitting down on the one chair present in the house.

Obi-Wan just twitched, which simply confirmed Quinlan's brain damage theory. The Kiffar made a quick mental note to take the first opportunity to leech some memories from Obi-Wan's sparse possessions, as soon as he could. For now, though, he just tried to at least keep his host calm.

"We were all affected by the war," he awkwardly attempted to offer in consolation, quickly coming to the conclusion that the best thing he could do would be to stop talking all together. "Some just more than others."

"Yes, some of us are dead." the other man mumbled. He didn't seem inclined to speak any longer, either. This was looking to be a long and arduous stay.

They spent most of the rest of the afternoon in silence. Dinner was an equally quiet even, what with Obi-Wan stewing in his apparent insanity, and Quinlan brooding over how not-according-to-plan this visit was shaping up to be. He'd been worried about Obi-Wan, when he'd first decided to seek him out. He'd wanted more information. When he'd volunteered to return there, he'd thought Aayla would be with him. Once she told him that wasn't the case, he'd been far _too_ aware that he had no other option but to follow through with his self-invitation. As it was, he was concerned for his former Padawan too. She hadn't been in a good condition, when he'd left her…

"Do you plan to share that thing?" Quin wondered finally, gesturing to the lone sleep mat, situated comfortably in the corner.

"Of course, or at least until you're inclined to make arrangements of your own. You know the way here now, so you're quite capable of going to town and coming back," Obi-Wan replied, not even opening his eyes from where he sat, Quin wasn't sure if he'd actually been meditating or not. It looked suspiciously as if Obi-Wan was just been killing time.

"Great," the former Guardian sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his own eyes thoughtfully. Well, now he knew how to break the tension. It had always worked so well when they were Padawans, after all.

So now it was time, once more, to play the waiting game. Quinlan couldn't say he was enjoying himself…and he had to wonder what kind of rules he could break. He had plenty of time to think about it, with Obi-Wan doing his best imitation of a Temple statue.

Eventually, he concluded that in order to break the rules, he first had to know them. As it was, he wasn't entirely sure the same of Jedi rules still applied…not that he'd ever set much store in them, to begin with, he mused, his memories drifting idly back to Khaleen.


End file.
